Blind Rage: Team Red, Book 4 by T Hammond Read Free Book Online Page B

long as we were in range.
     
    No, Red couldn’t read my mind. And, no, I couldn’t hear or see through any other animals. There was discussion around the theory I was a receiver, and Red had to project his thoughts at me—this seemed reinforced by the fact I didn’t hear his random thoughts during the day. I explained how we could feel the connection break, even if we weren’t actively using the links. For example, when Red went to the store with Ken, we both could feel the moment the vehicle drove out of range.
     
    Finally, I reviewed a dog’s limited color spectrum, with its absence of green and red—like a color blind person. Especially at close range, Red’s vision wasn’t as sharp as a human’s 20/20, but still very clear, and we had an advantage in the evening hours when I could see objects in dusk which I didn’t remember seeing so easily through my old sight. The men were fascinated with the enhanced peripheral vision. A dog’s eyes are set more to the side of the head than a person, giving them a wider peripheral view.
     
    “Do you find yourself watching a lot of cats and squirrels?” Dex teased.
     
    “Not too often,” I laughed. “We sever the connection when Red is physically active, as I get dizzy when his head swings from side to side, or when he’s running. It’s a lot like looking at a photograph. If you take a still picture of a cat, you can see everything in the photograph: the cat, furniture in the background, the rug pattern, even reflections in the windows. I am not limited to what Red is focused on. Right now, Red is watching my face, but in his peripheral vision, I watched Dex wad up his song lyrics page and place it in his front, right coat pocket. I see the deer crossing the road behind me, as well as woodpeckers flirting at the base of the tree fifty yards to my right. I also see the…” I turned and waved over my shoulder, “…the drone hovering up in the treetops.” Red shifted his focus to show me two more, quietly holding a pattern south of where we stood. Automatically, I looked in that direction, and the men’s gazes followed mine. “Arggh,” I growled, frustrated, “I have been trying to break myself of the habit of looking toward what I am watching through Red. It’s a dead giveaway.”
     
    Russ addressed the men, “As the Team Red security detail, you’ll need to remind Teresa when she does something which could give away her mind-sight. A discrete hand on her arm, to bring her attention to you. Or, if you have an opportunity to deflect attention, feel free to take initiative—drop something on the floor, or ask a question. I’m sure each of you understands the importance, and the possibilities, presented by what you’ve observed this morning.”
     
    “For the mind-sight, we use the term ‘lights on’ to indicate Red should send me visual. When we are done, we use ‘lights off.’ If you feel we are in an emergency, any of you can tell Red ‘lights on’ or ‘off.’ Red will mentally speak a warning to me before he gives me visual, or turns it off. Warnings were one of the rules we put in place so I don’t get surprised when I’m suddenly hit with a head full of bright light. There are also times when unanticipated withdrawal is dangerous, for example if I’m walking down stairs, and he disconnected abruptly.”
     
    “How disorienting is mind vision?” Frost asked, striking me once again with his perception.
     
    “Connecting is always a bit of a shock,” I admitted. “As much as I value being able to see, imagine you’ve been in a totally dark room for a day, then someone flips a switch, flooding the room with one-hundred-watt light. I’m lucky, my eyes don’t need to make a physical adjustment, as this is all, literally, in my head. Regardless of whether Red is at my side, or in another room, there is still a split second where I need to absorb what I’m seeing, and mentally put things into their proper places. There is also